Tides of Blood and Steel (8 page)

“The wagons! They are firing the wagons!”

The soldiers quickly fell back to secure what was left of the supply convoy. All of the wagon masters were dead, along with most of the men left to guard them. It was then dozens of armored enemy attacked. The battle quickly turned into a melee. Leaderless, the beleaguered soldiers of the Wolfsreik struggled to survive. It was a fruitless endeavor.

Sharp pain lanced down his leg and into his groin. Haltaf’s leg hurt bad, more from the application of the tourniquet than the spear sticking out of him.

“This one is still alive.”

He could barely open his eyes. Acrid smoke curled in his nostrils and he knew what had happened. His men had lost and his charge was destroyed. Bodies lay as far as he could see, frozen in their own blood. The stains in the snow reminded him of a merrier time when the family would gather and the children would color with different paints. Haltaf caught himself grinning for no reason.

A young man knelt down in front of him. He bore a regality that few men had. Ash and sweat stained his face.

“What is your name, soldier?” he asked. There was no weakness in his voice, despite his young age.

A rough hand prodded his wound. Haltaf groaned.

“Leave him be. We wouldn’t want them treating our wounded poorly,” the youth admonished. “He may be our enemy, but he’s still a man.”

An older man stood over the younger one’s shoulder with a disapproving glare. “We might as well find another. This one is as good as dead.”

“No, Venten. He’s just a soldier doing his duty. I’d like to think that not all of them are as vile as their king.” He turned his attention back to Haltaf. “There is no harm in telling your name. I am Prince Aurec of Rogscroft. You are?”

“Sergeant,” he said, dribbling blood. “I am a sergeant.”

“At least he has a sense of humor,” Aurec smiled.

“Yes. A dying one.”

“Then we had best hurry,” Aurec said. “Listen to me, Sergeant. This is only the first attack. I am sparing your life and those of your men who are left. Go back and tell your generals that they are not welcome in my kingdom. You will get no supplies, no weapons, or any reinforcements so long as we and our Pell Darga allies watch the passes. Leave Rogscroft and end this campaign.”

Haltaf tried to laugh, but it hurt too much. “I cannot deliver those words. Do you know what they’ll do to me?”

“That is not my problem.” Aurec beckoned another of his men. “Dress his wound and get all of them out of here. Venten, have the men take the undamaged supplies and fall back. I want to be gone from here before they send a scouting party back.”

Prince Aurec left Haltaf and made his way through the battlefield. Burning wagons lit the area. Melted snow pooled with blood. The crows had already started to gather. Half of the bodies lay on their backs, eyes staring lifelessly upward. Accusation sat in all. He’d won a hard victory and more men died. The butcher’s bill was rising and there seemed no end in sight. Rogscroft stood on the cusp of damnation whichever way this war turned out.

Escape

“Anienam! Where are you?”

Skuld coughed and choked from the thick dust. He could barely make out his own hands scant inches from his face. His body ached from dozens of bruises and cuts. At least nothing felt broken. What he could see disheartened him. The cave-in destroyed what had remained of the ancient temple. Their escape route was gone, along with any hope of finding the others. Skuld hoped they managed to make it out in time. Practicality demanded that he had other matters to worry about. He pushed himself to his feet with a groan.

“Anienam, can you hear me?”

Dust prevented any echo. Skuld felt lost when only silence reached out to him. Vague memories of what made him sneak aboard the
Dragon’s Bane
all of those weeks ago mocked him. He’d been naïve, filled with unobtainable ideals. The world was not the semi-friendly place in his inner dreams. It was violent and brutal. He’d seen men die. No, watched them killed in the name of causes well beyond anything he was capable of.

And now he was alone. His friends, such as they were, might be dead. Anienam Keiss, his one true hope for salvation, lay buried in the rubble. Skuld was deep underground and more alone than ever in his life. He fought back the urge to cry. Such weakness wouldn’t do him any good. His best chance was to find the wizard’s body, recover the book, and try to find his way back to Bahr.

“Anienam, please answer me!”

His pleas went unheard. The old wizard had to be dead. Misery crept into the street thief. Hopelessness gnawed at him. A familiar sense of abandonment settled back over his soul as if a deposed king reclaiming his throne. Skuld recognized that his life was meant to be filled with hardship and pain. He sank to his knees, unwilling to fight any longer. Tears flowed freely.

“Please,” he begged.

A dull groan broke his moment of self-indulgence. A spark. It hadn’t occurred to him that he hadn’t bothered to actually look for Anienam yet. Skuld forced himself back to his feet. The wizard was alive!

He shouted, “Anienam!”

Another groan, somewhat louder, answered him. Skuld pushed his way frantically through the debris. He needed a sign, just a scrap of cloth. Hope found its way back into his weary heart and he desperately clung to it. His efforts soon paid off when he stumbled on Anienam’s prone body. A rotted log lay across the old man’s legs.

“Anienam, you’re alive.”

“Of course I am,” he replied weakly. “Help me move this log.”

Skuld bent down and gathered what remained of his strength. The log didn’t budge. “It is too heavy.”

“You can do this, Skuld. Besides, there is no one else. Roll it off me if you must.”

Skuld cringed. Visions of breaking bones danced in his eyes. Strengthening his resolve, the boy bunched his muscles and went back at it. Sweat dripped into his eyes, streaking the dust coating his face. His efforts were rewarded. The log rolled away. Anienam was freed. Skuld collapsed beside him.

“Thank you, my boy.”

He tried to smile. “Anienam, why didn’t you use your magic?”

The look he got in return was one of mild surprise, or perhaps just diversion. “Magic? Oh yes, I suppose I could have. Seems that bump on my head rattled my brain a little.”

Skuld was too exhausted to think further on it. He also failed to notice the appraising look Anienam gave him.

“Is there another way out of here?” he asked.

The boy thought. “There is another tunnel snaking through the back, unless the cave-in collapsed that one as well. Do you still have the book?”

He wasn’t sure why he asked that question. Before the collapse it hadn’t felt like it was any of his business. Something had changed. The thought was disturbing and oddly comforting. Skuld felt a part of something more than himself again. Relief washed over him when he watched Anienam pat the tattered leather pouch around his shoulder.

“Right here. All safe and sound,” he said. “Let us be gone from this place. The others will already be at the rendezvous.”
If they still lived
.

They moved in single file. Anienam insisted on Skuld going first, claiming implicit trust in the youth. The going was tough. Much of the tunnel network had collapsed and was in complete disrepair. Skuld went as fast as he felt was safe. Subconsciously he tried to take account of Anienam’s age and injuries and forced himself to move slower than he wanted. Desperation crept back into the corners of his mind. The walls pressed closer. The ceiling dropped lower. It was all he could do to maintain control.

“How much further do you think?” Anienam asked to keep Skuld focused.

His personal concern went well beyond the traditional boundaries of their safety. Every moment they delayed gave their enemy another chance at final victory. He’d cursed himself a dozen times over for his inability to see the involvement of the Dae’shan for what it was. Arrogance led him to believe that the emissaries of the dark gods were extinct. He foolishly thought that they’d been defeated and Malweir was finally free from their influences. Wrong. Now entire kingdoms suffered for his mistakes.

Skuld didn’t really have an answer. Instead he focused on the conversation. Otherwise he feared the dark would crush him. “Shouldn’t be much longer as long as the tunnels haven’t completely collapsed.”

“Leave that to me.”

The street thief cracked a smile. Anienam had a way of relaxing him, of setting his fears aside and introducing calm.

“What part of the city are we beneath?” Anienam asked.

A good question. It had been a long time since Skuld had been forced to travel through this part of the tunnels. He wasn’t even sure which direction they were traveling. They might well be on their way up to Chadra Keep for all he knew. The consequences were dire. They couldn’t risk being caught now, not after going through so much. The sheer responsibility of it all daunted him. All hope rested in his hands.

He ventured, “These tunnels run under the main parts of the city, but I do not know which direction we are heading.”

“I trust you, lad. You’ll make the right choices,” Anienam encouraged.

The praise was unexpected and did wonders for his morale. Skuld strengthened his resolve and pushed forward. Hopefully each step brought them closer to the surface and a reunion with their friends.

* * * * *

Dorl Theed dropped to his knees and threw up. All of the dirt and debris came flooding out of him, coating the broken cobblestones. Lord Argis sagged against the wall, struggling to regain his breath. Nothol Coll half dragged, half carried Maleela free. He coughed and sputtered, but recovered enough to gently ease her down and splash their faces with water from a nearby rain bucket.

“The wizard?” Dorl asked. He wiped the strings of saliva away with the back of his sleeve.

Nothol looked back to the gaping darkness and then shook his head.

“Damn.”

Argis spat. “Then it was all pointless. Harnin has already won.”

“That’s the problem with you people. You’re always so quick to admit defeat. We are far from letting Harnin or Badron from having their way with this kingdom,” Nothol admonished sharply.

Argis bit back, “The wizard was our best hope for stopping the coming war. Without him the rebellion will be washed in blood.”

“If you don’t have the stomach for it, you shouldn’t have gotten involved,” Dorl chipped in.

“I am a lord of Delranan!”

Nothol replied, “Then start acting like one! The rebellion will go on with or without you. The consequences of your actions will be seen in the amount of blood spilled. Stand now or step aside. This is no time for indecision.”

Maleela looked up at them with tears streaking her face. Her heart wept for what was happening around her. “Please, Argis.”

Argis stewed silently. No one but Badron had spoken to him so harshly in a very long time. Newly kindled rage colored his cheeks.

“If Anienam is dead then we have lost the initiative,” Dorl said before Argis had the chance to answer.

Nothol Coll shrugged. “We’ve been in tighter spots.”

“Not by much.”

“There has to be more than a single reference for this damned hammer,” Dorl added. “I don’t believe that some forgotten temple beneath Chadra is all.”

“What hammer?” Argis asked suddenly.

They told him, albeit reluctantly, what they knew of the Blud Hamr. Argis listened intently, deeper conversations forming in the back of his mind. Clearly Bahr and his wizard keeper didn’t fully trust him. He balanced on the edge. Should the rebellion fail, he might still be able to get this information back to Harnin in exchange for his life.
Blood hammer indeed
.

Nothol Coll added random bits of knowledge to the
tale while focusing on Argis’s facial expressions. Not even an accomplished liar could hide his true feelings. Besides, Argis had already betrayed one group. It was no stretch to imagine he would do the same again. Nothol kept his left hand close to his sword. Whether from a growing sense of alarm or just from habit, Argis couldn’t be sure.

“Do we go back in?” he asked.

His heart fluttered. Horrors awaited them in the forgotten places of the night. That such evil dwelt within his home city could have deep implications for the future. He doubted the cave-in had permanently trapped the undead.

Nothol looked back at the ruin of the tunnel entrance. “There is no going back.”

“If what Skuld told us is right there must be a dozen entrances,” Dorl said.

“None of which do us much good even should we find one,” Argis added. “They could come out anywhere.”

Nothol was forced to agree. “He’s right. Skuld was our way in. He alone knew his way around down there.”

“Then it is hopeless,” Maleela said in a hushed voice.

“No, remember that the boy does have a wizard with him,” Nothol said.

“If they managed to survive,” Dorl replied.

“There’s no helping that. I say we link up with Bahr and the others. Harnin will undoubtedly know we are missing by now.”